#999 - Being the weakling that can't open jars

We've all been in this situation before: you buy a yummy jar of (insert your favourite jarred product here.  For me, it's pickles.) from the grocery store, you rush home to satisfy a craving, and low and behold, you can't open the fucking jar.  You do everything to try to open it; you twist, you turn, you heat up the lid, you use a dry towel, and you go through all measures besides breaking the glass jar to try to get to the sweet prize inside.  In the end, you're covered in a layer of sweat and the lid isn't budging like that lazy boyfriend who is on the couch after he's found a documentary of the greatest sports moments in history on TV.

This jar of olives that won't open
 is bugging the shit out of me.

Admit it, you've laughed at those stupid infomercials on late night TV where you see the idiot fake struggling with a jar (these are clearly people who failed drama school) paired with the announcer emphasizing awful copy like: "You're struggling, straining and even injuring your hands to open that jar!  Well, struggle no more!  Introducing the Lid Turninator!  For only $19.99, we'll send you this one of a kind device that opens lids so easily, you'll never have to worry about carpal tunnel syndrome again!  And if you call now, you'll get another Lid Turinator for free!"  I'm sorry, do I have that many jars that I need to open two at the same time to save on time?

Then, we realize once we're stuck in the non-jar opening situation, that we really should have picked up the phone and paid that $19.99 plus the shipping and handling charge so as not to be on the brink of tears over a stiff lid.

But wait for it, the deep sigh doesn't come into effect until someone casually wanders into the kitchen and asks why you look like you've just run a marathon while holding a jar of preservatives.  Fuck you, you mutter under your breath.  You tell them that this jar lid is absolutely impossible and challenge them to try.  They take the jar from you, tilt their head, look at it for a second and with a swift shift of their two hands, you hear the POP that's been eluding you for the past ten minutes.

As you mutter another "fuck" under your breath, and claim that you just made it easier for that other individual to open it, you walk away with your jar.  With your back turned because you don't want to show the other person your defeated face, you eventually breath out an air of frustration to indicate that you died a little on the inside.

DEEP SIGH.